Chapter One: A Mary and Matthew Tale
by C.A.Arm17
Summary: The same characters and situation but with a little twist in the plot line...


**_So here's a little something that started off just being something I had to get out of my system, now hopefully with some handy work from Word, it should be respectable._**

'Have you seen his Lordship, Carson?' I ask

'I last saw him quitting the house, sir, but I am unsure of where he is at present moment.' Carson replied.

'Thank you' I concluded. I turned and headed towards the large oak doors. I had wished that Lady Mary would cross over my path while I was in the house, but it was not to be. My mind mulled over my many encounters with Mary throughout my stay, from her passionate and prejudiced dislike towards me during the first dinner party to her attitude to me recently. She wasn't someone whose emotions one could easily. I look up from gravely path my feet are on and admire the grounds. It is a crisp, cold autumn day and the leaves on the trees fall to the ground like soft flames of fire. My thoughts are interrupted by the voice of the women who previously occupied my thoughts.

'Hello' I hear her voice, precious like the sound of chimes being sounded softly 'What are you doing here?' I turn my head and catch her eye. I have to breathe deeply to make up for the breath that was suddenly lost to me before I attempt to talk to her.

'I'm in search of your father, Carson thought he was outside.' I leave her gaze and scan the portion of the garden that is within my vision.

'He's in the library' she states. I turn to her and release a somewhat inaudible and breathy 'oh' before swallowing and blinking nervously under her gaze. An uncomfortable silence passes before she continues 'What is it?'

'Oh, nothing much' I string the words together, regaining my composure, unsure of when she caught it off me 'I've had an inquiry about one of the farms.'

'Oh' she voices, somewhat mirroring my lack of breath whilst speaking. Standing there, I decide to approach her and sit adjacent to her on the bench. I remove my hat and sit close to her. She leans back, as if to relax into my presence.

'So' I elaborate, desperate to hear her voice again 'what's new at the big house?'

'Sybil, mainly.' She turns to me and nods her head, her eyes wide 'She's discovered politics which of course makes Papa see red.' She leans into me and I manage a smile.

'I admire Sybil's passion, though' I lean back as well, pleased I have been able to talk while feeling like setting jelly in her presence.

'Of course' she seems adamant on keeping the conversation flowing 'but then I like a good argument' she says, gazing out at the view from out seats. I steal a sideways glance at her a marvel at her profile, her face peacefully at ease. 'Papa does not.'

'If you really like an argument,' I start, and then immediately regret the words ever leaving my mouth. I pause, uncertain of whether I should continue.

'Yes?' she prompts me, curiously aware of my uncertainty.

I take a deep breath and add 'We should see more of each other.' I finish. I turn to look at her, this time receiving the view of her whole face. Her dark eyes are warm and inviting, her perfect eyebrows raised in amusement. She smiles at me and he whole face glows happily. I smile back, and she turns away to look out at the trees. I follow her gaze wishing to be able to see everything how she does. I'm not sure how long we stay like this together; I take her hand softly in mine and simply hold it. She does not object, both of us satisfied with being in each other's presence.

I was working late. The sound of cheering and shouting brought me from my work to search the street from my window. I saw people running past my window, and I immediately packed up my work, realization flooding over me; it was election night. My mind span back to the conversation I'd had with Lady Mary days ago when she mentioned Lady Sybil was intrigued by politics. I instantaneously put the pieces together; Lady Sybil would be here, amidst this violent display of opinions. I lunged for my hat and ran out of the door, finding myself in the middle of an angry crowd. I searched the heads of the people for a well dressed brown haired young woman, but found myself looking at a young brown haired woman with an older chestnut haired woman beside her. I immediately recognized the older lady to be Mary. My heart was thumping wildly, almost muting out the yells of the crowds. I could not reach Lady Mary and Lady Sybil before an energetic fight arose. Before I could do anything, a scrawny lower class man had shoved his was forward into the crowd and proceeded to knock Lady Mary so hard that she fell, her head meeting the earth with a crack, resulting in sticky, deep scarlet blood oozing from her hair. I didn't have to think to move, I simply did. Branson had appeared by Lady Sybil's side, both of them staring, dumbfounded at Lady Mary's crippled form on the ground, the blood staining her beautiful porcelain skin. I feeI someone run into me and shout. Turning around, I take a strong swing at the man, hitting his face, causing him to stumble. I race through the crowd to her side, inspect her head, for a moment before I gather her up in my arms; make my way through the crowd and leave.

Throughout the journey back to Downton the atmosphere is painfully tense. I keep Mary held in my arms, Sible is muttering incoherently and Branson I worryingly silent. As soon as we arrive, Branson jumps out of the car to open the door to help me out. Shifting Mary in my arms, her eyes flicker open for a second and she groans, mumbling something I don't hear properly. When I enter the house, an unconscious Mary draped in my arms, we cross paths with the Countess. She catches the sight of us and gasps, running towards us.

'Mr. Crawley? What happened? Sybil, dear are you all right?' she asks frantically, her voice high with fear.

'She got caught up in the political brawls, Countess' I explain, wishing to refrain from telling her the whole, gruesome truth.

'Quickly, to her bed chamber' She tells me, hurriedly walking from me. I follow her easily, Lady Mary surprisingly light, causing me no strain to whisk her up the grand staircase to her room. I had never been in the upstairs part of the Abbey, let alone into her room. I didn't, however, have any time to look around as I laid her gently on her soft, white bed, being careful not to harm her already injured head.

'What did she damage?' his Lordship asked, having followed us up the staircase.

'Her head, your Lordship' I replied dutifully. The Countess had started to undress Mary, to get her out of her bloodstained clothes.

'I will wait downstairs if that is alright. Please tell me how she is when you come down.' I ask, almost pleading, starting to feel my presence was no longer required as Mary became less and less presentable. The Countess turns around as if unaware of my presence and nods, agreeing to tell me of her progress.

_**Comments make my day! :D**_


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